


Queen's Station

by Soar319



Series: Quirrel's Locations [2]
Category: Hollow Knight (Video Game)
Genre: In Game Dialogue, Memories, Memory Loss, memory dream, queen's station is haunting, quirrel n ghost chill out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 16:14:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16916130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soar319/pseuds/Soar319
Summary: Quirrel finds Queen's Station and is in awe at both its grandeur and silence. Yet he can still hear stag bells ringing.





	Queen's Station

He's seen the signs erected here and there, bearing the symbol of a Stag Station guiding those who needed a place to rest their weary legs. He's wondered if there were any stags left from the fallen kingdom, if ringing the bell would only result in an empty echo weeping down the winding tunnels. 

He has rested on the lonely benches before, taking the time to take his mask down from his head and run his thumb over the smooth surface. He stared at the two eyes with the dots on top, trying to grasp onto a fragment of memory in a feeble attempt to remember who they were. Usually, he doesn't succeed, sighing and putting the mask back on to resume his adventure. 

Hopping down the paths of Fog Canyon, he saw the sign again, sighing in relief. The canyons were not the easiest to traverse, especially with the number of uomas and oomas floating about threatening explosive consequences. Even if they were strangely curious and gentle towards him -sometimes even cuddly, like an old friend- he still tried to keep his distance. The entrance to the station was sealed in with vines, Quirrel cutting them down with a few quick slashes. He grabbed the handle and pushed, the rusted hinges squealing in protest as he slowly opened up the door, wondering when was the last time somebody came through. Opening it enough to walk in, he widened his eyes, his hand leaving the handle. 

A station that just looked like it kept expanding out, once polished floors and gleaming railings now overrun by nature and time. The floors were cracked and crumbling, a few sections completely broken off. The staircases were more or less just a slope of debris. Several signs hung from the ceiling, detailing departure times, arrival times, the schedule per platform, potential delays, and more; all now useless. Quirrel picked up one of the signs that have long fallen off, wiping off the dust on top. The times were unreadable, a large crack cutting up the middle. 

**_PLATFORM #7_ **

**_CRYS________K_ **

**_CR_____ADS_ **

**_GRE_____H_ **

How many bugs gazed up at those signs, and how many are so used to their routine, they know it by heart? A station this huge… Quirrel could only imagine the number of bugs that traveled through here, bugs just going about their daily life, making their way in and out through this grand kingdom… 

He blinked as he heard footsteps behind him, putting the sign down and looking over his shoulder to see his little friend walking up. They stopped next to him, staring down at the station. Their eyes - mask? He never could figure it out- betrayed no emotion, Quirrel wondering what they were feeling. Awe? Confusion? Disappointment? Relief?

"Isn't this something… I'd not expect to discover so huge a Stag Station after that foggy descent." He chuckled, Ghost glancing up at him. He gestured around. "The bugs of Hallownest must've been an impressive lot, building such grand structures so far into these wilds!" No response, as usual. Well, he never really minded. "Seems the dangerous creatures about haven't yet made their way in here. It's the perfect place for a quick rest." Quirrel sat down and dangled his legs over the edge of the broken floor, setting his nail by his side. 

After a brief pause, Ghost sat down too, looking up at him. Quirrel always wondered what Ghost was thinking whenever they just stare at him. Did they want something? Need to ask a question? Share some thoughts? No response, just silence. He smiled at Ghost, resting his head on his knee. 

"Can you imagine this place in its time?" He murmured quietly, subconsciously afraid to ruin the melancholic silence that seeped throughout the building. "Hordes of bugs traveling about the Kingdom; stag bells ringing; the station bustling with activity and life." Did the platforms reflect the light that glinted through the windows? Did the ground rumble with all the stags coming and going? "Now only our like even know it exists..." He whispered, Ghost lowering their head. He gazed out at the empty station. 

Oh, how he wished he could see what it was like in its glory days… 

"That's a special thing I suppose, to cherish these sights, even in their decay." He said. Sitting in silence, Quirrel glanced over at Ghost when they suddenly raised their head. "Is something the matter, friend?" Ghost gazed back out at the station, then looked at him again. Quirrel tilted his head. "What is it?" They put their hand up to where their mouth would be, Quirrel staying quiet. 

The station's silence settled upon their shoulders, Quirrel turning his head back to ask Ghost what did they mean when they stood up and got behind him, holding his head straight forward. He listened and listened, hearing the wind faintly blowing through and the creak of the infrastructure. 

_ … ring… ring… ring…  _

He nearly jumped if it weren't for Ghost resting their hands on his shoulders, staring at him with their unblinking eyes. He listened once more, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. 

_ … ring… ring… ring…  _

"... Is it that, just faintly, you can still hear the echo of the bells?” He whispered, Ghost giving no response. They simply stood next to him in silence for another few minutes, bowed their head and left. Quirrel waved goodbye and watched them head back into Fog Canyon, the door creaks signifying them leaving. Swinging his legs back up, he slumped against the wall, lowering his mask. It wouldn't hurt to catch a quick nap before his next journey. Closing his eyes, he drifted to sleep, listening to the groaning building.  

_ … ring… ring… ring… _

_ Ring… Ring… Ring…  _

_ The bells' echoes traveled down the tunnels, loud and clear. They became louder and louder, more and more echoes bouncing off the walls.  _

_ Ring! Ring! Ring! _

_ RING! RING! RING!  _

**_NOW BOARDING GREENPATH, PLATFORM #1_ **

**_KING’S STATION, PLATFORM #6, DEPARTING_ **

**_NOW ARRIVING FROM CITY OF TEARS, PLATFORM #3_ **

_ Queen's Station, as always, was filled to the brim with bugs rushing in and out to reach their desired platform. It was a popular transfer location, people getting off one stag to leap onto another. Quirrel adjusted his hood, holding his luggage close as he stepped onto the platform, saying a quick thank you. The seats filled up as fast as they emptied, the stag waiting on a few last stragglers before thundering off.  _

_ The bells' echoes rang and reverberated throughout the building, a constant hurrying melody accompanied by the stags' trampling hooves. The ground was always just the slightest bit trembling, bugs weaving in and out chattering about the latest news, family, upcoming holidays, their destination, and more. Hundreds upon thousands of conversations heard by this station, from one bug to another.  _

_ He made his way up the floors, reading the signs pointing at the exits: left was Fog Canyon, right was Fungal Coves. Only a couple of bugs headed to Fog Canyon, mainly apprentices studying underneath the Teacher.  _

_ He took a deep breath and walked left, his finger tapping on his luggage handle rapidly. He glanced back at the station, at the sea of bugs going about their daily lives. Where were they going? Were they visiting somebody? A new family member, a friend? Perhaps they were going to work? Or sightseeing?  _

_ The bells rang and rang, echoing off the walls. The chatter of the bugs accompanied the melody, one incomplete without the other.  _

_ It was absolutely mesmerizing.  _

_ Quirrel turned back and walked, following the other students. They passed by a jellyfish with a dark blue billowing cloak, her long tentacles swaying gently in the air. Her mask turned towards him, Quirrel bowing his head in respect.  _

_ “Ah, a new student! Your name is Quirrel, am I correct?” She said, floating over. He nodded.   _

_ “Yes, Madam.” _

_ “I would like to personally welcome you to the Teacher’s Archives. My name is-”  _

Quirrel jumped as he heard a loud clang, grabbing his nail and getting into a defensive position. He blinked as he saw Ghost hitting their nail against a locked door on the other side, sighing in relief and taking a few deep breaths to soothe his nerves back down. It was just Ghost doing their weird thing. 

Once they were done banging their nail on the door and slinked down towards one of the lower platforms, he got up and made way for the right side of the station. Scraping off some of the moss on the signs, he managed to read something related to fungi, shrugging and leaping onto the platform. 

He stopped, taking one last look at the station. Only nature and crumbling infrastructure existed, leaving behind a melancholy silence of what was once a shining beacon of connections.  
  
And yet, he swore, he could hear just the faintest echoes of  _ something _ , but it was a fleeting memory all the same.

**Author's Note:**

> Have you ever just stood in silence in Queen's Station w/ the volume turned up and just listen to the past echoes of the stag bells and bugs chattering? It's hauntingly and chillingly beautiful, props to Team Cherry. You can also look up "Queen's Station Lost Echoes' on Youtube to listen! Just another glimpse into the grandeur Hallownest once was, and Quirrel trying to remember who he was in said time. 
> 
> god i will die upon the hill in which hollow knight was built upon.


End file.
